


The Brit who spoke delinquent

by Saint_Sin



Series: Camellia tea [1]
Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Gauken AU, High School AU, Human AU, M/M, Mystery, USUK - Freeform, mainly usuk story, side pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:18:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saint_Sin/pseuds/Saint_Sin
Summary: "Hey Arthur?" I whisper into the cold vacant night, breath clouding in front of me as rain droplets drip onto the pavement in front of me. Arthur turns, his back pressed against the rough bricks that line the alley. "Yes Alfred?" He replies, now dull green eyes wondering to the striding cat.  "We're going back to school on Monday, right?...Arthur?"





	1. Disarray

        [8:13 am, Friday, September 9th, ????, Central District, World High school] 

Alfred's POV:

    White dust fell from the vast black surface–words and algorithms being written by said dust. Boredom corroded at concentration as the monotone voice spread throughout the room. The room was large yet felt oddly desolate when full of 30 others. A faint dull poke nudges my side, resulting in an exceedingly bored glance back towards the albino responsible for breaking my daze.  
       "Yes Gilbert, I know the girl three rows behind me has "a rather nice ass". Or is it just that you've come to mix me up with my brother? He's not even in this class you know" I forcefully whisper at the distraction who was a self proclaimed 'Prussian'.  
      "Who shoved a stick up your ass? Are you on your man period today, Alfred? Kesesesese~" Gilbert mocked, poking me frantically as to spark an emotion from my oddly stoic face.  
      "I wish Arthur– mother fucking hot ass– Kirkland would have shoved his stick up my ass," I mumble, keeping my cerulean eyes concentrated on the meaningless words. A heat spread throughout my face, my eyes widened at my own words. My heart beat most certainly now surpassing that of heart attack range as it beat into my throat in the form of a lump. Both my cheeks–scratch that– my whole face caught on fire, mimicking the color of a ripe ghost pepper.  
      Of course Gilbert knew of my infatuation with the Brit, but for me to actually depict how far it may go was not in my comfort zone. Especially not something others would deem as perverted.  
      "Ohonhonhon, Alfred what's this I hear about Arthur penetrating your innocence?" A certain Frenchman whispers, taunt clearly glazing his words along with his thick crooked French accent. I sigh in regret as I look back at the French fry, his wisp-like fair hair swaying along with his muffled laughs; his violet eyes full of a sinister intent.  
  "No I didn't mean...I...I...slip of words?" I stutter out, words squeaking an octave above my usual speech, my oak like voice being replaced with that of a prepubescent twelve year old.  
    Surprisingly through all of these actions and words that passed through the three of us, no one noticed. The teacher's void eyes still staring at the littered board as drones followed along, some battling with staying conscious.  
   "You look more like a top compared to Arthur. Although if you compared your year younger self to Arthur–oh so holy– Kirkland, you'd have no chance. He'd pound you i-" Francis starts.  
   "Enough! Enough! Stop the torture and let me die a painless death! Why can't you go a class without talking about you fucking someone, or someone having sex with someone?!" I whine, my voice articulating rather loudly with the oddly amped acoustics of the muddled classroom. The numbing words cease, the stares although grew.  
  My pupils dilated, I raise my index finger gingerly in the air; as if that would undo my words.  
   "Whoops? It could've been worse I could've been talking about a porno in full detail...," I stop dead in my sentence as my words only made it worse. "Oops times two?" I laugh, rubbing the back of my head frantically as if that were going to teleport me away.  
    "Mr. Jones. You've disrupted the class for long enough, I see it best you make your way to the office," Mr.Renolds voices, monotone voice filling with a slight hint of stern annoyance.  
   I sigh, red hue darkening as I left my seat. Feet trudging out the opened oak door, into the vast vacant hallway. Head down; I watch the color of tile change from yellow and blue to green and purple, few bugs racing across the expanse in the shadows. Candy wrappers ever so messily litter the ground near the lockers.  
    "Oi, where's yer hall pass?!" A Scottish accent yells from behind. Mr.Kirkland, although he rather be called Allistor is the carrier of said accent. I spin around, face to face with the health teacher who let off a bitter smell. The smell did not hide as it had a smoke like aftertaste with the main course of whiskey.  
   Allistor was most likely coming back from a drink break; as the alcoholic he is.  
    "I'm going to the office, I don't need one" I explain, tapping my feet repeatedly on the chipped tile, each tap of my foot echoes through the vacant hallway.  
   "Well I'll escort you to the office to make sure you don't run off and goof off, the last thing I want is to get another strike for allowing a kid to trick me, actually. I have a class to teach, sadly." He stops, rubbing his chin in thought, his eyes scanning the surroundings until they stop. Lime green eyes focusing behind me. Small smirk playing his features. Once again, red hue returning to my face. Anything but this.  
       "So I'll have Arthur take you to the office" He explains to me, switching his gaze back to the Brit behind me. "isn't that right Arthur?"  
     "Hell n–brother, I do not see the need for me to escort this boy to the office when he's fully capable himself, or why you can't just do it. As I do have places to be. I'm a student too, and a junior along with it. There are exams everywhere, you know that, wanker!" Arthur huffed, emerald eyes glinting with a certain moxy that screamed out "no" from a mile away. His lips thin, each corner facing downward slightly; careful not to disrupt the straightness of the pale pink. Each abnormally sized eyebrow furrowing together, at each passing millisecond since he had spoke with his rather paper like voice.  
    The Scot shot a deadly look towards his younger sibling, gleaming lime clashing forcefully with the enchanting emerald. He huffs, a low groan joining in a duet with the sighing sounds, his eye twitches for a mere millisecond. He smiles, a bitter smile as if to coat his anger with a more authoritative look.  
    "Remember what mother told you about being more of a gentlemen? Although, you may not look the part anymore, deep down, Arthur you're still the nauseating trouble maker of a kid" The Scot bit out, bitter voice dropping to the bitterness of grapefruit that still held the pulp.  
      The holiness himself King Arthur Kirkland of the realm of everything I hold dearest to me, simply walks back towards the hall he was just down, waving his hand nonchalantly as a beckoning to someone. He stops, spinning around to look straight towards I, his eyebrows furrow into a questioning look.  
   "Come on I don't got all day, are you coming to the office or not?" He snaps, gesturing his delicate hand towards himself once again. My eyes widen as I scurry towards him, with each step towards the Brit the less my chest allows me to breath and the more my heart pounds hard into my rib age begging to pop out of its prison. The sound of the Scot walking away and grumbling was muddled by the whispering of my thoughts.  
    "I, uh, Hi?" I let out once I reach the Brit, feet stumbling to keep up with his rather trudging pace towards the office.  
     "Hello? The name's Arthur Kirkland" He replies, slowing his steps so they're in sync with mine, not bothering about the rather slow and reluctant pace I had set.  
       "I, um, know, most of the school knows your name by now...well I'm A-Alfred F. Jones. I'm a junior as well, although I'm a year younger than you." I respond, voice wavering every other second, leaving my cheeks a rather warm hue.  
       "Well, J-Alfred, how would you like to ditch going to the office and instead chill outside? Or rather, ditch school for the day. It's still first hour after all" He suggests, coy smile gracing his plush lips, as his hands ever so graciously point towards the glass doors ahead that completely passed the office which was five feet ahead of us. He stop dead in his tracks looking at me expectantly to make a choice.  
I have been blessed!  
       "Heck ye–I mean, sure. That'd be cool" I smile, voice wavering ever so slightly with the addition of not knowing how to act around the Brit. Arthur glanced toward me in question slightly at the outburst but simply walked forward, leisurely passing the yellow glow of the opened office door. I run after, slowing down momentarily to pass the office door only to start sprinting to catch up with the blonde. His leisurely pace stopped and erupted into an awkward sprint as a shrill voice yelled from the yellow emitting door.  
          "ARTHUR KIRKLAND! Get back here this instant! I will not have you running away from the office again in one day!"


	2. Our run to the alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short trip to an alley between two looming buildings in the elmwood district between Alfred and Arthur. Alfred gets to decide where his time with Arthur heads.

  
[8: 30 pm, September 9th, Friday, ???, Central District, World High, main hallway]

Alfred's POV:

* * *

          The rather plump receptionist waddled quickly towards us, hazel eyes solely focusing in on Arthur, allowing me to rather breathlessly catch up to Arthur. His forest green eyes widen as I come up towards him, delicate face tinted with a slight red hue of exhaustion. His head turns back toward the rather long hallway, glass doors growing bigger and bigger with each step, the sound of the wailing woman behind us drowned out as the sound of victory washed our ears.   
       I took the liberty of sprinting out towards the doors and allowing the breeze of the biting September air to fly in. Arthur sprints out the door only glancing back once towards me as he turns a corner, I follow quickly running along side him, the scenery changing from that of many bustling trees to that of tall buildings and flashing lights.   
       Arthur stops, chest rising up and down rapidly, knees bent forwards as he gasps for the air. Sweat clinged to his hair, sticking it to his beet red face.   
     "That was harder than I thought, when I ditch I usually use the back door or go out during lunch, never the front. They never have cameras anywhere anyways" He mumbles under his breath mostly to himself, he straightens his back, only momentarily glancing around giving a slight nod at the scenery.   
      "Well it sure is a nice way to end a Friday" I mumble joyfully through the tense air that clouded us.   
      "Well someone of your kind most likely does find this simply amusing, with that I'll let it pass by." He responds, legs wobbling forward along the cement caked sidewalk that line the bustling city.   
       "M-my kind? Hey, dude, not to be rude or anything but where are we going? The creepy woman with eyes on the back of her head told all of us students to specifically stay in our district!" I let my feet fall into sync with the British boy's own walk of prowess amongst these parts, each emerald eye seemingly considering the possibilities of taking each street.  
        "Do you twats need it spelt out for you? Your kind would be: the law abiding citizens that quickly adapt to all the rules placed when you arrived in this city, and those who live a normal life without question! Also, for your information, Jones, I know perfectly well how to navigate through the elmwood district and all the other districts for that matter." He rasped, side stepping down a small path between two towering buildings, this path only big enough for a small car. Dim light shadowing the two buildings into each other as the sun desperately try to peak in the hidden passage. Small felines drone around, scurrying through every possible hideaway that could contain food, that they could possibly fit into. His pace quickens from a slow hesitant yet knowing trudge to a quick and diligent stroll.   
      "Wow~! So cool, there aren't many alleyways in my district that's in the academy sector, it's more tree and small town than an actual city. How in living anything did you come to know these parts so well to be able to find an alley? I couldn't even see it! Do you have night vision? Are you secretly batman? A-" My quick paced rambling stops, Arthur's tall index finger resting gently in the air between us, a small shushing noise escaping his lips lightly as he allow his eyes to roll.   
     "You talk too much, git. It's as if you forget who I am... you did say the whole school knows my name, right? If you connect the dots you can figure out how I became familiar with such places." Arthur simplifies, turning his back towards me with the last echo of the sentence on the mold ridden chalk-like bricks that clung to the cement simply to make the structures. His dark oak colored dress shoes clacking onto the cracked cement that lined the alley's disease ridden floor. Tight fitting brown jeans spontaneously creasing with each movement the Brit made with his lower body.   
    I'm most likely gawking right now aren't I?  
      A spilling brightness swam into the surrounding monochrome area as we approach the ending of the hidden 'forest'.   
      Piercing screeches of brakes clenching onto dear life sound every other second, the honking call of said machines sounding between every flash of green. The structures–mainly town houses– constructed out of well aged bricks that have gone from a pallet of warm reds to more earth bearing colors. Each building serving a different purpose yet looking nearly identical to the untrained eye. The whole setting reminds me of my times in the more docile parts of Chicago, although, elmwood was being overtaken by the bustling plants from underneath compared to the trees and vines that ate at the Chicago buildings.   
The light that had tried to bite at us now basked us in its rays, as it turned the warmly colored leaves from opaque to translucent as a warm glow project behind them.   
      "Lukas is late as per usual, I'm guessing when he turned me down he actually turned me down." He hisses under his heavy breaths that shook his body. I'm assuming he doesn't exercise much.   
      Who's Lucas? I've been obsessing over Arthur for how long! Yet, somehow I don't even know who he hangs out with. Is Lucas the blonde haired boy with red eyes? I mean he looks like a Lucas...   
       "Well, we could do something involving just the two of us or we could go looking for the others." He asks, eyes searching frequently through the crowd of unknown faces that derive from more races than one could name.   
         I think glancing towards the chipped sidewalk, back up to the star that lie in the ocean of blue. Of course I know what I want to do, stay alone with Arthur Kirkland, or, wait...  
      I'm not like my brother, I can't make friends easily, I come off as annoying and my attitude has gotten to him already. Who's to say he'll even want to be alone with me? But then who's to say it won't be awkward with his friends? I could annoy everyone... Well there is the chance I know one of his friends, in that case they could either like me or already hate me.

Way too much pressure!

Well if I at least figure who the others are I can see if hanging with them would be a good idea. Good job Alfred, hanging out with Kiku has made you slightly smarter. If only you always had this thought process, maybe then you wouldn't have stuck the wrong note at your departure.   
     "Who're the others?" My voice wavers slightly, yet comes out rather loud as to slightly talk over the numerous people conversing of random life topic that do not pertain to me in the slightest.   
       "Lukas Bondevik, Vladimir-" He starts off, long list of first and last names carelessly slipping off his tongue. At least I think the list is long, the only thing that I can concentrate on at the moment are not the names of the people who I have no recognition of but Arthur.  
How the afternoon sun's rays get caught in his messily positioned lemon toned hair, the sour scrunch of his furrowed eyebrows, the sweet shine of his moving lips, the tea leaf flavor of his questioning eyes. He himself can only be described at this moment as the one who had captured my heart, or lemon tea.   
       Either way by the look of his now closed lips and agitated expression he's waiting for me to speak my mind. The thought of embarrassing myself flutters saw at like a frightened bird into the alleyway and confidence replaces it.  
       As alway, I have to stay optimistic! On the bright side of things, if me and Arthur hang out alone we can become better friends. Good thinking Alfred!   
      "Well, dude, I think we shouldn't waste a second of our day! Who cares about the others! I've never been to a cafe. That's way more important! So is that leaf right there, so cool. Do leaves have feel-"

     "Honestly, you could've just said we should go alone instead of rambling, oh, and Mr.Jones, I am not your 'dude'." He, voices, strolling down into the mass of people.

    Hm, but does a leaf have feelings? I know people ask the same thing of me, and I feel the same as a leaf most times.

_Honestly Francis, you were right._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S'up, thanks for sticking with the story after 2 whole chapters!


	3. Pas Le Café Pour Moi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get the story moving a little!

[9:15 am, September 9th, ???, elmwood district, lucky rabbit cafe, corner booth] 

 

Arthur POV:

“How did you of all people convince me to go to a boring cafe? There aren't even any books! Not to mention this looks like somewhere Bonnefoy would practically live in” I sigh, my finger lacing around the condensation that rose on the edge of the glass. White porcelain plate that was painted with gold leaf details hold a little over a serving of macarons; this is definitely a Bonnefoy place, I wouldn't doubt that Jones got his taste in cafe’s from the Frenchie. They obviously hung out a lot, and as it seems did a little bit more than hanging out last year. 

“You know Francis?! He never told me! Well if you didn't know me and Francis are like, best buds since orientation!” He practically screeched in glee, his personality bubbling up from the flat soda he once was. I wish he would've stayed that awkward flat soda, I simply hope he doesn't get in my way. Of course, he's way better than Frenchie any day, I have many regrets still and the frog face was one of them. A horrible half drunk mistake. 

“Yes you and the Bonnefrog are rather close, I should've remembered that before allowing you to decide on the place to go.” I mumble, grimace digging under my words like a mole. I take a long sip of the crisp chilling water that occupy my glass, fingers tapping in a rhythm in wait for my order. I would have rather gone to McDonald's compared to this Café. The worst thing about it was the lapses of silence that wash over us each time we stop talking, it seems as if our silence makes all the rambling people stop mid-sentence, as if we were the only ones here. In other words, it was awkward. 

“What? Francis would never come to a place like this! It's not up to his standards, first the tables can't only be inside! Outside is the way the Frenchie goes, he always complains about the café view; if the view of the city is not exquisite the café is not.” Jones sighs, smiling up at the short black haired waitress that delivers our orders in a clumsy manner as if not to intrude. Jones trains his gaze back toward the short stature of the young waitress, eyes rolling as he rambles on. “If the waiters are the slightest bit off he doesn't like the place, heck, if they put a light shade of seafoam next to a red he’ll refuse to go back. This place here, to him, would honestly be somewhere mere peasant eat and those of no culture.” He spits out, studying the silverware to a point, only once checking his own distorted reflection in the fork that ends up jabbed into the pastry. 

“Insightful” I mumble as I stare down the steaming cup of coffee, accompanied by its pal; a messy ham and provolone mash up. What made me order the American drink can simply be summed up to a slip of the words, or for the more perspective ones, a nudge into the profiling of Jones. One cannot simply trust an American, rather it's not advised to ever trust an American. 

“You're looking at me oddly.” The American hesitantly huffs out of his stuffed mouth, his glasses remaining askew in a rather undignified manner. 

“So, Mr.Jones, tell me about yourself, tell me why I know you won't kill me in an alleyway” I purr, smooth wine voice rolling slowly off of my tongue, of course as a form of seduction. 

As my words fold one way my thoughts are already creased another. The real question is why I brought along this hinderance! I could've been getting work done. 

PRUSSIA POV: 

He sat feet kicking the cut down stump of the old oak tree. His light blonde hair swam along with the slight autumn breeze. His eyes a light violet in color, his smile slight but still whole upon his porcelain face. 

I don't need other people to make me happy 

I quickly turn around, heels softly climbing on the concrete as I retreated from the oblivious Canadian boy. I knew his name, I think, all I know is he's Alfred’s brother in some odd way. 

I'm not ready for this 

I let out a prolonged breath in the slowly chilling air, a slight chuckle escaped my chapped lips. The grey looming sky above only darkened the further I walked away. The boy was like the shine of light peeking through a bundle of clouds. 

I don't need anyone, I'm too awesome for someone to love, I'm fine on my own. I wish I forgot about the times I spent with others… but it's fine! I love being alone anyway. 

I love it……. 

My walking slows to a trudging as the plaza enters my vision. Students roam around, some hollering at each other, some cackling at jokes, others readying for a romantic winter before winter even starts. 

Two people in particular sit together on a small mold eaten bench in the middle of the plaza. One possessing long brown flowing hair, fair skin reddened by the cold, her green eyes watering slightly as pollen wafts through the air. Her smile was not graceful it was rather earnest though, as she stare at the bespectacled boy that rather hesitantly clutched her hand. His brown hair combed back except for the one cowlick that refused to stay with the rest, his eyes radiate elegance not even a royal could possess. Not to mention the mole that sat on the lower portion of his face that most likely beat a royal mole in sheer size. 

The couple that sat ahead did not bother me. I love being alone. That's what I told them when they asked if they could date each other. Who is the amazing me to not allow my best friends to be happy together. 

I rush past them, not even a glance thrown at me from either of my before acquainted friends, almost as if we now held the relationship of strangers. It was okay though, as long as they weren't suffering like the rest of us were. If they possess each other they have someone to rely on once the harsh reality hits. 

Speaking of harsh realities, Alfred has not come back after first period, nor had I seen him when I passed the small office. What I had seen though were people’s whispers about the boy, a rumour had spread, one that I couldn't ignore. They kept saying the delinquent took him. 

Arthur POV: 

The alleyway was chilling, all whom had pass don't dare to look in. That's most likely the reason no one noticed the unconscious American that lie next to the cornered Brit. Nor would one have seen the three people looming above me. Simply my luck 

The former crisp air lick harshly at the one wound I had sustained. I know for fact they would not dare lie a finger on me. They will also most likely feverishly try to explain the damage, that I have sustained. 

I still sit, motionless as I cross my arms. Waiting for the actions of the three I have all but forgotten about. Not to mention that these all but forgotten have gone and attacked a student. I had gone on record two months without getting caught by Them. It was simple for the most part. Weaving into densely populated areas, taking obscure routes, not going to one place twice over the course of a month. Simple, that was, until they evidently had started to track me. It most likely took Them a minute to see where he was, seventy to get to him, and twenty to follow me and devise a plan. They have been advancing a lot lately. 

“I,uh, Arthur, Are you okay?” The third spoke out, shock of blond hair contrasting with his dark nutmeg coloured skin. A faint look of worry crosses his stone built face. He went by the name of Lincoln. He was rather soft spoken, and sympathetic in some senses. He was new, here to replace his superior. His superior who quit, for reasons unspecified. 

“Arthur, I’ll help bandage you up, if you tell me who that boy is. We can't have you hangin’ around possible danger” She prodded, her heavy accent of a foreign region (most likely French) poking through her words, making the sentence awkwardly escape her mouth. She went by the name of Alexandrie, which fit her as much as her accent fit with the English language. She was rather proportionate aside from the extra pounds she had packed. Her hair a light brown, roots of blonde slowly peeking out from other the musky color. Eyes a lazuli blue, sun-kissed face seemingly spotless. She is rather blunt and doesn't show her clear feelings about me. She's been looking after me since then. She was basically a nanny, a bodyguard, a information specialist, and an Arthur tracker all combined. 

“There's no time, if the boy is also a student shouldn't we take him as well? If he's a student and he files a complaint….” The third member spoke. His hair a heavily fair–pretty much white–color, his skin seemingly never having seen the sunlight. Along with his strikingly light blue eyes. To put his appearance into simple terms, he was what one would call Albino, but not Gilbert Albino. He was a shade of everything away from being albino. Kalle was the almost albino swede’s name. At least, that's what I had started calling him. 

“No we’re not bringing the boy, for all we know he could be….A you know…” Alexandrie voices, hands motioning towards the American. 

“We’re running behind schedule” Kalle mumbles, grabbing Alfred’s waist and hesitantly hoisting him over his shoulder. That doesn't work out too well as the American is too heavy for even the swede. So the three settle shortly after, on having two people carry the American, whilst I follow. 

How They’re going to explain to my parents what they had accidentally done to Alfred is still beyond me. What's more important is the fact that they only make up a small portion of the much bigger them. 

“Young Kirkland, let's get going before we drop the...heavier than most young lad” Lincoln addresses, urging me to move before each one of their muscles give. 

I simply get up, walking over toward the black vehicle with whence I know they came, opening the door for myself. I watch them wobbly carry the American to the car, gleefully throwing him into the back next to me without a second thought. 

They should really think before they act.

**Author's Note:**

> S'up here my little debut for this book, this book of which will eventually be turned into a series as planed out. Anyhow, thank you for reading and any feedback would be appreciated, unless you're here to tell me I forgot how to grammar, my spelling is off, or I don't know punctuation. I'd rather keep the feedback on how I portray the story.


End file.
